


Can't Take the Fight From the Kid

by dearmrsawyer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-23
Updated: 2009-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearmrsawyer/pseuds/dearmrsawyer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam lost his brother to Hell, and he was running out of options.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Take the Fight From the Kid

Sam stood alone, no other souls nearby. The family had long fled, Bobby returned home, Ruby’s body been salted and burned, but Dean remained. It had been almost forty-eight straight hours, and Sam still stood, staring down at his brother’s shredded and bloody body.

“You have to bury him, son. You can’t leave him here.”

Bobby was right; Sam couldn't leave his brother here. But he couldn't destroy all that remained of Dean. Sam stared at Dean’s empty, opaque eyes, missing the sarcastic warmth that once lay there. His once-healthy skin had paled, and the blood had dried. Sam was pretty sure those floors would never be the same.

Sam’s eyes were still red and swollen, although he’d long run out of tears. His eyebrows felt permanently furrowed – any attempt to straighten them felt unnatural. Sam knew what his mind was telling him to do, and no matter how much he refused, telling himself that he would just start the cycle all over again, Sam also knew he’d do everything he could to get his brother back

***

In the middle of nowhere, Sam was exactly where he wanted to be. Straightening himself up in the centre of the crossroads, one foot below the gravelly surface lay a box of trinkets, safely buried with Sam’s fake FBI identification inside. 

The empty wind was cold, and Sam knew Hell was coming. Sam had killed the Crossroads Demon long ago, but he doubted Hell would leave such an important position unoccupied. Sure enough, a seductive, manipulative voice spoke from behind him, Her hollow words catching the wind. He turned around to see a slender, stunning blonde, Her eyes tinged with red. However, they weren't the deep red of the demon he remembered; they were a pale red, as if the demon was inexperienced.

“Sam Winchester. I’m pleased we finally get to meet – I’ve heard so much about you.”

Sam stood, unresponsive to words, his heart pounding and his fingers itching to reach for Ruby’s blade, stashed safely in his back pocket.

She took a step towards him, Her eyes roaming over his body and drinking in the sight.

“What can I do for you, Sammy?” She asked with a coy, flirtatious smile. She knew exactly what he had come for.

“You’re going to bring Dean back from Hell.”

Sam was surprised his voice was firm with no sign of pain. Every moment his thoughts dwelt on Dean, he felt himself growing weaker, and his expected his voice to break any second.

She laughed – right him his face – and the night seemed to drop a few degrees right there.

“Sorry, Sammy–”

“Do not call me that,” Sam told Her in a defiant tone, his eyes emanating hatred. 

She stopped, still smirking, and seemed to enjoy his powerful stance. Cocking an eyebrow, She said, “Dean’s not coming back. He made that deal fair and square. It wouldn’t be right for us to let his part of the bargain go now, would it?” She shook her head as if this was fairly obvious, speaking to Sam as if he were a child.

“You’ll bring him back,” Sam repeated, taking a step towards Her. “Or you’ll die.”

“Oh, now Sam. Don’t you remember what happened last time you said that? You know completely well that killing me won’t do anything.”

Sam had to be honest with himself at this point. He hadn’t entirely thought this through. He didn’t have a game plan, he had nothing to bargain with, and he couldn’t think clearly through the rage pumping inside him. And She knew all of this.

“Sorry Sam. It’s a no-can-do.”

And in a blink She was gone.

***

Bobby handed over the one tool he knew could locate a demon because Sam needed it for his next hunt. Well, that’s what Sam had told him. Bobby had bought the “I just need to do something” line perfectly, and it was partly true. Sam did need to do something. Although he may have misled Bobby according to his purpose.

Finding an old, abandoned house with a decaying structure, Sam set himself up, locating Lillith there and then. Within seconds, Sam knew he was headed for Boston, Massachusetts. 

***

Checking into a local hotel room, Sam pulled a street directory out of the bedside cabinet. Laying it flat on the coffee table, he placed the needle over the map and began to chant as it spun.

Five minutes had passed and the needle was still spinning, indecisive of Lillith’s location. Double-checking, Sam pulled out the national map again and began to recite the ritual over it. To his great frustration, the needle landed over Denver, Colorado. 

It looked like the only way Sam was going to find Lillith was if she came to him.

***

He’d been through ever summoning ritual in every book he owned, including all the random ones scattered through his father’s journal. Lillith had not answered to one. After asking Bobby if he could stay for a few nights, Sam snuck into his book collection to see if there was a ritual he had missed. Sam didn’t tell Bobby why he wanted to stay; he knew Bobby would never let him try to summon Lillith.

Two months had passed since Dean had been taken from Sam, and he could feel himself draining away. His senses were dulling, his emotions drying up. It was then, wit Dean no longer there, that Sam realised his brother was who he was. In losing Dean, the world lost Sam as well. There was no longer any reason for Sam to continue the fight; he has lost what he was hanging on to. The thought of a future spent alone was enough to fuel Sam on, and he resorted to his last, final hope.

Sam had had just about enough of crossroads to last him a lifetime, yet here he was once again. He put his photo back in the box, waiting patiently for Her to return. Sam stood in silence, his heavy eyelids barely blinking in the cold, midnight wind. Sam wasn’t affected by the wind, nor the sun or the rain. In fact, Sam didn’t feel much anymore. All he wanted was to be closer to Dean.

“Ah, my regular customer.”

“I haven’t bought anything from you yet.”

“Yet? Mmm, sounds promising.”

Sam turned to face her, his chin raised and eyes narrowed. Those pale, red eyes looked out at him from a new body. She walked forward, stepping around him lightly.

“What do I owe the please of your return?” She breathed through the night air.

Sam didn’t answer for a moment, but he had no reason to stall. “Take me.”

She stopped pacing and looked at him over Her shoulder, surprised. “Excuse me?”

“Take me,” he repeated in the same emotionless tone.

She relaxed Her posture, looking at him in that same, all-knowing way. “Sorry, Sammy; I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” he pressed, his heart pumping – it had never occurred to him that his last option could fail him.

“There’s no deal here; I can’t take you.”

“But I’m offering myself. Hell’s always been hot for Winchester blood.”

She smirked. “We have a Winchester.” There was a short pause.

“Please.”

Looking back up into Sam’s eyes, She saw his fallen features, and the glimmer of tears threatening to overflow. She sighed, feeling a foreign sensation of pity run through Her. 

“Look, this isn’t up to me. I can’t take you.”

Sam raised his head, and he was alone.

***

Sam sat on the edge of the bed in his hotel room, his head in his hands. His last option had failed him. Sam thought that by giving himself to Hell, he would at least be closer to Dean.

The cheap windows rattled in the wind, and darkness flickered. Sam didn’t seem to notice, until he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Don’t look so down, Sam.”

Turning around, Sam saw a person he didn’t know, yet he knew perfectly well who it was. Her casual posture, slanted against the wall with her arms crossed, and the smug smile adorning her face could only belong to one person.

“Why the hell are you here?” he asked. Anger boiled inside him at the memory of the last time she had been near.

“Just to talk, Sam. Take it easy.” Ruby leant off the wall, raising her hands defensively and walking forward. Sam instinctively jumped up, Ruby’s knife slipping out of its holster easily.

“Sam, put the knife down.” Ruby stopped walking, but her tone was as calm as ever.

“Give me one reason I should,” he spat menacingly. Lone strands of hair splayed across his forehead, overshadowing his face and darkening his eyes.

“Because I have answers.”

“Answers to what?”

“To why you’re not getting into Hell.”

Sam hesitated. She always knew the right thing to say. She seemed to be aware of this particular skill herself, as the smirk on her face grew bigger. He lowered the knife, his face remaining sceptical. He watched as she invited herself over and sat on the bed, crossing her legs as her face fell into a more serious arrangement. 

“Lillith doesn’t want you getting near Dean. She knows that if you get to Hell, you’ll cause some real damage. She doesn’t want to take that chance.”

“And what damage could I cause?” Sam asked, his eyes glaring.

“Sam, haven’t you learnt anything? You’re harbouring a serious ability. From here it’s harmless to Hell, but if you’re there–”

“So Lillith doesn’t want me in Hell because she’s worried I’ll destroy it? Or break free? Or break Dean free?”

Ruby sat silently, looking up at him with an expression he’d only ever seen in one sort of circumstance; he was catching on.

“You don’t get it. From earth, you can’t affect what goes in Hell. But if she lets you in, and you’ve somehow figured out how to work that mind magic of yours, you could wreak some serious havoc. Lillith’s got Hell on lockdown; there’s no demon that will let you in.”

“What about you?” he asked. His tone was empty, but his heart skipped a beat at the possibility.

“I don’t have that authority,” she shook her head.

“So why are you here?” His submissive mindset was back.

“To try and get you to stop fighting for something that’s useless!” Ruby stood up and walked towards him again. “You’re a hunter, Sam. You need to move on; you need to hunt.”

Sam didn’t know how to tell her that without Dean, he didn’t want to hunt. There was never much in it for hunters, but Sam’s sole salvation was that it gave him Dean. Now that Dean was gone, it didn’t seem to make sense to continue on.

Ruby seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. “What are you planning to do, go back to school? Get a job? There’s no such thing as a normal life once you’ve lived this one.” She stood directly in front of him, forcing Sam to look at her. “You need to keep hunting. Remember what Dean told you before he died?”

That struck a chord within Sam. For the first time, Sam remembered what had happened just before those Hell hounds had dragged Deal to Hell. He could hear Dean’s voice echoing in his head.

“Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you, ok? And remember what I taught you.”

Sam’s posture faltered. He had forgotten Dean’s last wishes. His eyes stung, and he knew that he couldn’t ignore his brother’s last words to him. He had been unable to save his brother, but Sam could still do something for him.

Ruby knew she had gotten through. After promising Sam she’d be there to help in his fight against demons, Sam was once again alone. He had nothing more than he had began with, except for a burning new purpose.


End file.
